


pride

by theformerone



Series: erik stevens, prince of wakanda [2]
Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Family Bonding, Family Feels, Fight me on it, Gen, Healthy Relationships, Wakanda is a womanist nation fight me on it, Wakandan OCs, Wakandans are affectionate as fuck because black folk being affectionate and loving is revolutionary, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-22 05:14:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13757058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theformerone/pseuds/theformerone
Summary: "Hey auntie, why do you have locks?"Or, the one where Ramonda takes Erik to the plains where she was born and he comes home to her a lion.





	pride

Erik is fourteen when he looks up at her and asks, "Hey auntie, why do you wear locks?"

It is not a strange question. There are a wealth of hairstyles that the people of Wakanda wear. But there are few who wear locks the way that she does, long and thin, and sparsely decorated. She is rarely seen without her headdress, at least to those who are not in the family. 

But Erik has lived with them for four years now, and this is the first time he's ever asked. 

T'Challa looks up from his meal, as does T'Chaka. Ramonda peers at her nephew with a light smile on her face. 

"My hair is a reflection of my place in Sekhmet's order," she replies. "Before I became queen, I was a priestess for her, not unlike how Zuri is a priest for Baast."

Erik nods; this is information that he knows. He's a terribly curious boy, and he bothers Zuri for all sorts of information. For a short while, he was very interested in the horticulture surrounding the heart shaped herb. The questions he asked made Zuri come to Ramonda and ask how to tell a boy like Erik that some things are beyond explanation. Ramonda had raised her eyebrow and asked Zuri if he really thought Erik would be satisfied with that, regardless of the truth in it. 

"In the plains," Erik supplies helpfully. "That's where you're from."

Ramonda nods. 

"The western pride lands, yes," she replies. "Just before you get to the river provinces where Nakia and her people live."

He puts a spoonful of ofada and rice into his mouth, and chews thoughtfully. He opens his mouth to speak with his mouth full, but Ramonda arches one eyebrow and he shuts his mouth to swallow before he speaks again. 

"What do those beads mean?"

Unconsciously, Ramonda lifts a hand to the lock that falls over her left ear. There are three beads, two of bright gold and a third between them that was a dark red the color of swelling blood. She runs the fingers over the beads reverently. 

"They indicate my place in the order," she replies. 

"Sekhmet wears a headdress with a red sun surrounded by a golden snake," T'Challa supplies helpfully. "The priests of her order who wear the red bead have the most authority."

She looks to her son with a proud little smile on her face, happy but completely unsurprised that he recalls his lessons so well. Erik has fully caught up with T'Challa in terms of academics, but T'Challa has known he is a child of Baast and Sekhmet for as long as he has been alive. 

"Mother was the head priestess of her temple," T'Challa adds. "But her bead is a darker red because she is not active in her order any more because she is the queen."

A puzzled look crosses Erik's face. Ramonda knows it well, and prepares for a rant. 

"Wait a minute," he begins, and from the corner of her eye, Ramonda can just barely see T'Chaka pinch the bridge of his nose. Her sentiments exactly. 

"You were the spiritual leader of your people and you stepped down to  _get married?_ "

T'Challa takes offense at that, but Ramonda shakes her head at him and he bites his tongue. 

"No offense, unc," Erik adds hastily. 

There's still a measure of hesitancy between them, on both parts. It's been four years since Erik came to Wakanda, and he only softened a little after the first one. He still doesn't like to be alone in the same room with T'Chaka, but family dinners are easier affairs now. 

"None taken," T'Chaka says.

Once he has his uncle's blessing, Erik rounds back on Ramonda. 

"Was it an arranged marriage?"

Ramonda nods. "Yes."

His fist tightens around his spoon. 

"Who arranged it?"

"T'Chaka's father, your grandfather," Ramonda replies. 

She waits until Erik opens his  mouth to spew vitriol about how archaic it is for women to be forced by men into arranged marriages, how women are not chattel to be bought and sold by patriarchal forces; that they are human beings with their own goals and opinions and they deserve to be treated as such. 

Ramonda is very happy that her nephew is such an ardent womanist; her brother-in-law raised him well. The Panthers that N'Jobu knew were womanists, ardent abolitionists of oppressive social constructs. It is no surprise that a boy as inquisitive and loving as Erik would soak up ideologies that advocated the liberation of marginalized peoples. 

But Erik is not in America any more. And he wold do well to pay close attention to the cultural differences between his adopted land and his native one. Ramonda is keen to remind him. She rolls her shoulders back, and leans back in her seat. She hears T'Chaka sigh; she will laugh at him later for it.

"And I."

Erik's mouth, ready to defend her agency suddenly clicks shut. Then drops back open again.

"What?"

"Erik," Ramonda says, "do you think any man could make a woman of Wakanda do something she does not wish to do?"

The question makes him duck his head and break eye contact with her. He remembers how Okoye broke his wrist when he was ten, and how his Dora guard resisted his initial attempts at escape. He knows the answer to her question.

"I offered my hand in marriage to King Azzuri when he announced that T'Chaka was of marriageable age," she says. "My father thought I was too young, but I was an adult and I made my choice because it was what I wanted to do."

Erik opens and shuts his mouth again, and then he pouts. 

"But you didn't even know him," he presses. He turns to look at T'Chaka again, eyes wide. "No offense, unc."

T'Chaka waves a hand. 

"None taken."

"It is true," Ramonda begins, "that your uncle and I did not know each other very well when I offered him my hand. But we were not married in a day. He courted me, and I him."

Erik makes a face.

"What does that mean?"

She looks to her husband, her partner, her friend. T'Chaka has always been a sweet man, a good man. She is happy to have a son that is so much like him, who feels deeply, who cares. It is easy for kings to become hard or cruel, but the men of the panther clan have hearts big enough to fit the nation inside. 

He reaches out his hand over the table, and Ramonda goes to take it as soon as he moves. T'Challa rolls his eyes and shoots a glare at his cousin. 

"Why did you have to ask?" he whines. 

"We went on outings," Ramonda says, looking from her husband's eyes to her nephews. "Chaperoned by his Dora guard, of course. We talked every day. We brought each other gifts, and tributes to prove that we would provide for one another."

"Your aunt," T'Chaka says, pointing his free hand at her, "killed three antelope to prove herself. She skinned them, and cooked the meat for a feast. She tanned their hides as well, and carved their antlers for jewelry."

T'Challa grins, because he knows this story and he likes to hear it told. Ramonda has never been especially vocal about her prowess as a hunter, but when T'Challa was first learning how to use a spear, how to notch a bow and arrow, she had interrupted his lessons to guide his hands herself. His instructor had ceded quickly to her authority; lions, after all, are apex predators. 

"When your father tasted her cooking," T'Chaka continues, "he said to me, 'T'Chaka, if you do not marry this girl,  _I will_.' And so I did."

The mention of N'Jobu does not make the room cold or quiet as it usually would, when it is wrapped in a story about happier times. 

"What did you do for her?" Erik asks.

T'Chaka shrugs. Ramonda squeezes his hand. T'Challa looks like he's about to burst into laughter. 

"I gave gifts to her parents, and to her people," he says. "Blankets, jewelry, carvings. Except I had to make everything myself."

"My mother loves your lumpy blankets," Ramonda says, with a wealth of affection. 

T'Chaka scoffs. 

"She loves them now. Not so much when I did not know how to work a loom."

Erik narrows his eyes. 

"That's it? You made her mom some blankets? She killed four deer! And then made stuff with them!"

"I did not only 'make stuff' for your aunt and her family," T'Chaka says. "I did those things to let her family know that I could provide for her. But I had to also prove that I could keep her safe."

"Well what did you do to prove that?"

"I had to beat her in combat." 

For the third time, Erik is speechless. T'Chaka brings Ramonda's knuckles to his lips and kisses them. 

"Well did you win?" Erik asks. 

T'Challa bursts into laughter. Ramonda smiles fondly at her husband, and he gives her hand a gentle squeeze. 

"Absolutely not."

* * *

Erik peppers her with questions about the pridelands for the next week. He was always a bright, curious boy, and now he wants to know everything Ramonda has to tell him about her people. She is happy to oblige him, to explain to him that Wakanda is not only the city in which he lives, but a place full of rich and diverse cultures, all working towards the same end. 

On the eighth day of his sporadic interrogations, in response to a question on how the lion tribe interacts with those of the river provinces, Ramonda says to him, "Would you like to visit?"

His eyes go wide and he stumbles over himself to say yes. Ramonda tells his tutors they are relieved of their duties. She tells T'Chaka she will be stepping out; T'Challa is with W'Kabi and his mother at the borderlands for a riding lesson. 

Ramonda visits home fairly often, occasionally with T'Challa in tow, and other times with T'Chaka when he can be spared. She sends a quick message to her parents so that they know to expect her and a guest, and then she and Erik are on their way.

A guard of three Dora come with them, Oluchi at the head. They pile into an air ship, and Erik is jittery with excitement the whole ride there. He asks a number of questions about her parents, about Sekhmet's order, but when a herd of zebra go by below them, he rushes to the window to watch. 

They reach the pridelands in less than three hours, and when they disembark, her family is there to meet her. 

"Ramonda," her mother, Nofoto says, arms wide open. 

"Mama," she says as she steps into her mother's embrace. 

Nofoto's own locks are down to her waist, and are a shock of white against her dark skin. 

"Mondi," her younger sister says, elbowing herself into Ramonda's embrace with her mother. 

"Esihle," she says, "you are just annoying as the last time I saw you."

Esihle, despite the fact that she is in her thirties, sticks her tongue out at her. 

"If you do that, don't be surprised when someone yanks it out of your head." 

"Ramonda, Esihle, behave," comes her father's voice. Ramonda turns to Themba, and hugs him. 

"Who is your little friend, Mondi?" Nofoto asks. 

Ramonda steps out of her father's embrace and turns to where Erik is hanging back near Oluchi. He had never been shy around the palace, because he had a vague knowledge of who was around him and why he was there. But among Ramonda's family, he is a total stranger. 

"This is my nephew, Erik. He was curious about where I was born, so I decided to bring him for a visit."

Esihle looks at her with furrowed brows, but Nofoto deftly pinches her younger daughter. 

"How nice of you visit us, Erik," Nofoto says. She waves the boy forward, and after a moment of hesitation he comes. 

"I am Nofoto, Ramonda's mother. This is Themba, my husband and her father. And here is Esihle, her sister."

Erik nods politely to each of them as Nofoto introduces them, but sticks close to Ramonda's side. 

"I was going to show him the temple and the preserve if everyone is not too busy today," Ramonda says, placing her hand gently on Erik's shoulder. 

Themba rubs at his white beard and says, "The acolytes are cleaning the temple floors now, so you may want to wait."

Ramonda looks to Esihle who shrugs her shoulders. 

"Naya gave birth to her cubs a couple of weeks ago, so everything is very relaxed there now," she replies. She peers over at Erik and gives him a conspiratorial wink. "Have you ever fed a lion cub before, nephew?"

Erik shakes his head. Esihle grins at him and offers him her hand. 

"Come with me, I'll show you how."

Erik is still a fourteen year old boy, so he pretends to have a measure of pride when he deigns to take Esihle's hand. Her younger sister may not be a priestess of Sekhmet, but Esihle is a lion though and through. She grabs Erik's wrist in a loose grip and tugs him forward and peppers him with trivia about the animals. 

When he is out of ear shot, Nofoto takes one of Ramonda's arms, and her father takes the other. 

"N'Jobu's son," Nofoto murmurs. "He strongly resembles his father."

"Why do you not call him by his name, Mondi?" Themba asks. "He has been here four years."

Ramonda shakes her head under her father's chastisement. 

"He was born both Erik Stevens _and_ N'Jadaka, baba," she replies. "But he came to Wakanda as Erik. It was the name his mother gave him, and I will not take that from him."

Her father hums in understanding. Themba has not only raised Ramonda and Esihle, but all of the children in her generation. Lions took childrearing as a communal activity, and it was one to be taken seriously. 

"You bring him around more often, Mondi," Nofoto says, patting Ramonda's arm, "we are the last grandparents he has, and he is a boy in need of family."

Ramonda raises an eyebrow at her mother.

"He has family, mama," she replies. "At the palace."

Nofoto cackles at that, and Themba snorts. Ramonda lets herself laugh, too.

"He needs more family," Nofoto clarifies. "A lion's share of family. And we will give it to him."

* * *

They find Erik nursing the runt of the litter with a fat white bottle, Esihle muttering encouragements as he does. He looks awestruck that he's holding such a creature in his arms, that he's even allowed to.

They spend several hours at the preserve, of which Esihle is the head. Wakanda does not take in refugee people, but when wounded animals cross the border, they are transported to the preserve on the pridelands for rehabilitation. Naya had been shot by poachers, but had wandered in past the barrier. She had been brought to them and healed of her many wounds. She was going to be returned to the wild when they discovered she was pregnant.

Now she was a favorite of the workers, and of the small pride that shared its land with Ramonda's people. Her runt, a little male called Jama is now a favorite of Erik's.

When Jama finishes the bottle, Esihle runs a check up on the cub once he's full and docile. It's difficult to get Erik to leave the preserve; he's got a thousand questions about how to take care of a lion cub without accidentally taming it. Esihle promises him that he can come back and visit the preserve any time, and it's only after that, that he consents to leave for the temple.

They walk there with Ramonda's parents, and she can tell they are getting close when she hears prayer song in the distance. She can't help but her her own voice rise to meet it, and her mother's does as well. Her father was more a political leader than a spiritual one, but everyone in the pridelands knows Sekhmet's songs.

The temple rises high, with pillars shaped like the goddess in her lion headed form stepping out to meet those that come inside. They are painted exactly, in swaths of gold and red and blue and green. The temple is open aired, to let in summer breezes and monsoon rains alike. The walls are ornately carved with prayers and stories of the goddess, and the whole place smells of sage and sandalwood.

Ramonda is reminded of her time here as a girl, and then as a young woman. She remembers learning how to use a khopesh, how to hunt with bow and arrow. She remembers her locks, when they were still stubby and short when she was initiated into the order, and the day they grew so long that she had to begin tying them back.

The memories are warm and inviting, and they come back as she sings Sekhmet's throaty prayer hymns along with her mother and father. Erik does not know the words, but he is a musically inclined boy and he nods his head to the rhythm once he catches it. 

They take their shoes off before stepping inside, and Erik follows suit. Ramonda is acknowledged by other priests and priestesses that she knows, and by acolytes who see her beads and recognize her authority. All of them know that she is their queen, but her power here comes from the years she had spent in service to the goddess and not those spent in service to the throne.

Erik is enamored by everything in the temple. From the incense burners on the walls, to the pristine floors, which gleam newly cleaned, decorated with colored glass mosaics. When the men of the order gather in the middle of the temple to dance, Erik watches their feet and hops along in place when he gets the hang of their movements.

When they begin a short procession to make offerings to the goddess, Erik watches Ramonda exactly to know how to dip his hands into the water bowl to clean them, how to eat one slice of a peeled orange and pass the rest along. He is one of the youngest there, so when it comes time to burn the offerings, he goes up to Sekhmet's altar with the other children and throws whole fat oranges and flowers and meat onto the pyre. 

Ramonda lets the children of the order take him, and teach him the praise dances. It comes as no surprise when he is hesitant to leave. 

He is a shy child, but when it is time to go, he lets Nofoto sweep him into a hug and he smiles brightly when Themba tells him he is always welcome in the pridelands. 

* * *

Erik takes Themba up on his offer. 

After his first visit, he goes almost weekly to the pridelands. He goes so much, Ramonda does not always accompany him. T'Challa goes with him to visit his grandparents and his aunt, but Erik firmly attaches himself to the plains. Esihle tells her he is a nuisance at the preserve; Jama begins to recognize him, and bolts for him as soon as Erik arrives at the preserve. Nofoto, a red beaded woman of the temple, reports that Erik dogs the footsteps of the priests and acolytes, peppering them with questions. 

He goes on like this for a month. So it comes as no surprise to Ramonda when Erik returns from the pridelands and requests an audience with T'Chaka. 

She and T'Challa are not privy to what occurs in the meeting, but as soon as it ends, T'Challa is on his cousin with questions. Ramonda enters the throne room as Erik and T'Challa make their escape. 

"My king," she says, approaching her husband.

"My queen," he replies. 

She takes her seat beside him, where she usually sits as the representative of the pridelands on the elder's council. T'Chaka rests his chin on his fist, and turns up the palm of his other hand for Ramonda to take. 

"How old were you when you joined the order?" he asks. 

Ramonda's heart leaps into her throat, and swells there with pride. 

"I was twelve."

"And you were eighteen when you were inducted into the priesthood," T'Chaka answers. 

"I was."

T'Chaka hums, and rubs his thumb against Ramonda's. 

"I worry that it will distract him from his training here," he says. "He is a prince of Wakanda, and he needs a prince's education." 

Ramonda bites her tongue; she will contest his decision if he tries to keep Erik from becoming an acolyte of Sekhmet's order. He is a panther by blood but a lion by nation. He is a boy whose pride is the world; Ramonda can tell that much from the way he talks about growing up in Oakland. 

"But it is the first thing he has ever asked for, and I do not want to deny him."

She relaxes. T'Chaka chuckles and drums his fingers against Ramonda's. 

"Are you sure there is no heart shaped herb in the pridelands?" he asks. "You almost broke my hand, my love."

She scoffs at him, but lifts his fist and kisses the back of his hand. 

"I'll treat it like a foreign boarding school," he explains. "He'll spend five months in the pridelands, two here, and another five in the pridelands. After the first year, we will see how much he wants to continue."

"Have you told him this?" she asks. 

T'Chaka laughs at that, and replies, "He is going to pack right now!"

That does not come as a surprise either.

* * *

 

For his first year, Erik calls home weekly because Nofoto won't let him do anything less. When he comes home for 'summer' and 'winter' vacations, he hides his stubby locks under a tidy wrap. It makes Ramonda laugh, and she teaches him how to maintain his new hair. Afterwards when his education in the temple goes into its second and then third year, he only calls once a month. Ramonda expects it. The training only gets more rigorous the longer a person is in it.

T'Challa misses him. T'Chaka misses him. She misses him. She is in his room, making sure that everything is tidy and well kept for his impending return when a familiar voice speaks from behind her. 

"Hey, auntie."

She turns, and there he is, dressed resplendently in soft red and gold robes, wrapped tidily over his shoulders and around his waist. He has a khopesh at his hip and sandals on his feet. His locks are not hidden under a scarf any more; they are longer, down to his shoulders. They're pulled back out of his face in a half up-half down style that mimics hers.

At the lock on his left ear, are a set of three beads. Two gold, and one red in between them. 

Her breath comes out of her in a laugh, and she raises the skirt of her dress so she may move quickly to him. He is getting taller, she notices as they hug. He is seventeen now, and he is strong from his training at the temple. 

"What I did in six years, you do in three!" she exclaims as she releases him. 

"What can I say?" he asks, grinning at her. "I learned from the best."

She swats at his arm with a smile of her own and says, "You tell your mkhulukhazi that, I'm sure she would love to hear it."

"Nah, auntie," he says. He squeezes her arms where he still holds them. "I meant you."

She tilts her head in curiosity. 

"I taught you nothing, Erik."

Erik shakes his head. 

"You're the one that taught me I had a pride in the first place," he insists. "I wouldn't be here now without you."

Pride and affection well up in Ramonda's chest, and she tugs Erik back into a firm embrace. 

"Thank you, ibhokhwe," she says, one hand on the back of his coiled hair.

She pulls away from him to look at his face again, and with one careful hand, she picks up the beaded lock. She runs her fingers over the carved beads that match the ones in her own hair, and reminds herself to call and thank her mother. She was the one who encouraged Ramonda into the order in the first place; if not for Nofoto, Ramonda wouldn't be here, and neither would Erik. 

She looks back to her nephew, and places her hands solidly on her shoulders. 

"I am so proud of you."

 

**Author's Note:**

> we're worldbuliding! i made ALL OF IT up. i know vaguely that in the comics, ramonda is south african rather than wakandan and she has no family of note, but i like my headcanons and i'm sticking with them until the mcu tells me i can't. and even then, i will keep them.
> 
> i love the connection that erik and ramonda had in terms of their hair, and i think that if erik had been raised in wakanda, he would've had a head full of locks instead of his undercut. 
> 
> my older cousins all call our uncles (including my dad) 'unc' instead of 'uncle'. they're all about erik's age, so i thought it would be a good black americanism to give him~ 
> 
> womanism is a black women's specific response to the limitations of american second wave feminism. black panthers were womanists, lgbtq+ rights activists, and liberators of all peoples by any means necessary. erik is WITH THE SHITS
> 
> 'mkhulukhazi' is great aunt! and it refers to nofoto, who in this verse is his great aunt. 'ibhokhwe' means cub, as in lion cub because this metaphorical identification has gotten wildly out of control.
> 
> to thank y'all for the INCREDIBLE response on 'home training', i'm taking wakandan!erik prompts on my tumblr (voregoisie) for the next two days, so we go out of black history month with a bang!
> 
> comments are food for starving artists!! xx thank you for reading!!


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